


Night Before Christmas

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-11
Updated: 2006-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-26 06:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10781616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Charlie and Hermione spend the holidays at the Burrow





	Night Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Thanks to [](http://florahart.livejournal.com/profile)[**florahart**](http://florahart.livejournal.com/) for being an amazing beta  


* * *

The bed was unbelievably lumpy, the room was too drafty, and Hermione just couldn‘t get comfortable. She glared at the ceiling above for what had to be hours, but she knew was merely minutes, listening to Percy‘s old bed squeak every time she moved, unable to sleep at all. Not even warming charms had taken the chill from the air.

Of course, she knew that it wasn’t really the awful bed or cold room that had made sleep so elusive. While those two things were certainly factors in her discomfort, the real reason she couldn’t sleep was because the bed beside her was empty. There wasn’t a body pressed against her that always seemed to be several degrees warmer than her own, nor a heavy arm around her waist and a rough palm firmly holding her breast even in sleep.

Hermione would sometimes playfully complain about how warm he was all the time and his fondness for playing with his toys, as she knew he referred to her breasts when he was chatting with his brothers, but now she really missed it. The worst part was that she could only blame herself.

Molly hadn’t been thrilled about their cohabitating without the whole marriage thing, but neither Hermione nor Charlie was in any particular rush to get a piece of paper to make their relationship legal. He’d been all keen to tell his mum that they were going to share a room. After all, they’d been dating for four years, had been sexually involved for nearly as long, and had been living together for nearly three years now. She’d been upset, though, and deliberately ignored his whispered words about telling his mum they didn‘t need two rooms.

She knew they’d eventually get married. Charlie had proposed one night a couple years ago after they’d made love and she’d accepted without hesitation. He’d even bought her a gorgeous but simple ring to wear. They’d do it before they decided to start a family, but they just weren’t in a hurry to begin that chapter of their lives together -- she was only twenty-six and Charlie was just slightly older, at thirty-three, so they had plenty of time to think about marriage and children. Right now, they were too selfish for a child. They enjoyed being with each other and having the freedom to go out, shag wherever they wanted, and just spend time together without having the responsibility that a child would require.

Unfortunately, Molly didn’t understand their reasoning and constantly mentioned marriage and grandchildren. It made things a bit strained whenever they visited his family so they tended to just keep their visits short. This was the first time they’d actually stayed at the Burrow during the holidays. In the past few years, they’d just come over for dinner and presents on Christmas day.

This year, though, Charlie was off for an entire week at the Colony and she had taken the week off from the Ministry so they could spend time together. She’d stupidly suggested going to the Burrow for Christmas Eve so he could wake up with his family and they’d have the whole of Christmas at his childhood home.

As soon as they’d arrived, she’d known it had been a mistake. Molly had put them in separate rooms and mentioned the fact that Hermione still wasn’t planning a wedding despite the ring on her finger. During dinner, there had been several comments about grandchildren with pointed stares from Molly and apologetic smiles from Arthur.

Hermione had finally got tired of feeling so awkward at having to defend their choice to wait for marriage and children while Charlie had fidgeted and tried to be firm to his mum but usually just shrugged and gave her an ‘I’m sorry’ look as Molly ignored him and just kept on with her remarks. She’d gone upstairs to bed shortly after dinner was over.

Instead of following her, as she’d hoped, Charlie had stayed downstairs with his parents. She’d read some of her book before finally giving up on Charlie joining her and getting ready for bed. She’d been tempted to just leave, to go home and spend the holidays alone, but that would have been childish and worse, admitting defeat.

She groaned at the direction of her thoughts. Molly wasn’t out to win. Hermione knew that she was pleased about her relationship with Charlie, even if it defied her more old-fashioned views on how this sort of thing worked. Marriage, living together, children was what Molly knew and wanted for her children. The idea of Hermione and Charlie living together first was just something Molly couldn’t seem to accept, and she harped on marriage as thought it was necessary for any relationship to actually be real and solid, which was something Hermione disagreed with.

Things would look better in the morning. They had to. There would be more people around and Molly could possibly find another target for her plans of grandchildren and marriages. The twins were still single, after all, and Ron had just broken up with Pansy for what had to be the fifteenth time in two years so Hermione wouldn’t have to worry so much about being the focus of Molly’s stubborn viewpoints.

That knowledge didn’t help her sleep, though. The mattress was lumpy and her feet were cold. She couldn’t put her feet against Charlie to have his natural body warmth heat them up for her and she was too lazy to light a candle and find socks. She was much more content to lie there and be cranky and just glare at the dark ceiling.

She shifted on the bed again, trying to get comfortable, and moved her pillow until it was pushed into a ball. Then the pillow felt awkward so she smoothed it out once again and turned to rest on her side. The covers were pulled up beneath her arms, the heavy blanket up to her chin, and still she was cold. She didn’t hear the door open and wouldn’t have even noticed if not for a small gap of candlelight visible before the door closed.

She didn’t need a lit room to know exactly who was sneaking into her room in the middle of the night. Before he could say anything, she turned her back towards him and snuggled under the covers. “Go back to your room, Charlie,” she whispered fiercely, letting him know she wasn’t in a forgiving mood for his lack of support earlier in the evening. “We wouldn’t want _Mummy_ finding out you were in here.”

“Hermione, just stop,” he said with a frustrated sigh. The bed dipped down and the covers raised up as he got in behind her. She stiffened at his words and tone and pulled away from him when he tried to hold her.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed quietly as she shoved his hand off her hip where he’d placed it. “I’m trying to sleep, Charles. Go away.”

“No, I won’t go away,” he snapped with just a hint of anger in his words. “Do you think I like how my mum acts? I tried, Hermione, but she doesn’t listen. She gets these ideas in her head and it doesn’t matter what anyone says, that’s all she sees. I’d think you’d know about that since you do it a lot, too.”

“I do not!” she whispered before she ‘accidentally’ moved her arm and let her elbow make contact with his belly. Hard.

“Fuck,” he cursed as her arm made contact with the flat planes of his stomach. “Would you stop acting like such an immature bitch?”

“Get out now!” She turned in bed and hit his chest with her fist. “I won’t have you calling me names like that, you bloody bastard!”

“Bastard, am I?” he growled as he caught her wrists and pushed her back against the bed. “I didn’t call you a bitch, Hermione. I said you were acting like one but never said you were one. This isn’t bloody well fair to me, you know? I love you and plan to be with you until I’m old and wrinkled, until I have white hair, but she’s my Mum. You know how she gets, you know I don’t care what she says but still you let her get to you, and I try to make things right for both of you.”

“It’s the same thing, you prat,” she muttered as she struggled and tried to free her hands from his vice-like grip. He was too strong, though, and she just managed to rub her body against his, which didn’t help her stay focused at all. “You just let her go on and on, insinuate that I’m a common whore for fucking you and living with you but not making things legal with some silly piece of paper, and you never say a word to defend me. Tonight she basically said that only those without morals lived together without the formality of marriage. She was essentially calling me a slag who led her precious son into some sort of wicked world without morals and you just sat there and complimented the bread.”

“She didn’t insinuate that, Hermione. You’re overreacting, again, and twisting things in that bloody brilliant mind of yours because you’re upset. You know she adores you and wouldn’t ever think that way about you. I know she can be stubborn sometimes and she definitely goes too far,” he whispered as he loosened his grip and lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. He needed to shave, the rough stubble on his jaw dragging against her sensitive skin, and his lips were chapped as he brushed a soft kiss beneath her ear. “What do you want from me, Hermione?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Maybe once I’d like for you to pick me, Charlie.”

“I picked you years ago,” he murmured against her neck as he moved above her and changed positions. “I chose you when I fell in love with you. I chose you when I told her to sod off when she found out I’d asked you to move in with me. And I’ve chosen you every single time she’s griped about us not being married yet and not starting a family. I’ve done everything I can, baby, except completely cut her from my life and I can’t do that, not even for you. She might be a pain in the arse but she’s still my mum.”

She squirmed beneath him to try to get more comfortable, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against the worn flannel of her nightgown in a way that made talking about his mum seem rather silly. Besides that, he was making far too much sense for her to continue to argue with him. “You’re right, Charlie. I shouldn’t let her get to me. She just starts in and it’s difficult to ignore her dislike of our living arrangements.”

“To be fair, she knows exactly what buttons to push,” he reminded her before he trailed his lips up the column of her throat. “We’ll go home tomorrow after dinner, all right? Or we can go now if you’d rather, Hermione. She pushed it tonight so it’s okay if you want to spend the holidays at home, just the two of us.”

“We don’t have to leave,” she said after honestly considering that option. “Tomorrow is Christmas so she’ll be too busy to worry about our lack of wedding plans, hopefully. Besides, we‘ll be able to go home after dinner so it shouldn‘t be that difficult.”

Charlie shifted and rubbed against her as he released her wrists and trailed his fingers down her side. He moved to lay beside her, his leg over hers as his hand continued to caress her beneath the flannel of her gown. She could feel his erection when he moved and moaned softly as he pressed against her leg. His lips moved over hers, teasing but not kissing her. “Did you still want me to go back to my room, baby?” he asked with just a hint of smugness. He seemed satisfied that she was feeling better about what happened earlier even if she wasn’t completely okay.

“Yes, I do,” she said primly even as she arched up against him. “You should go back to your room now before I lead you down a sinful path. Once I‘ve got you, I‘ll never let go. That‘s how we loose women work, I suppose.”

“Promise?” he muttered before he kissed her. She kissed him back, her hands moving along the curve of his spine, the soft fabric of his jumper beneath her fingertips. His hand tugged at the hem of her nightgown and she gasped into his mouth when she felt his warm fingers on her leg as he shoved her gown up around her waist.

“I promise,” she whispered against his lips as she rested her forehead against his. “Never letting you go, Charlie.”

“Good cause I’m yours and I might get some sort of complex if you let me go,” he murmured with a lazy smile as his rough fingertips drew increasingly larger circles on her upper thigh.

“We wouldn’t want that,” she agreed huskily as she moved beneath him and slid her hands up under his jumper to touch warm skin. She traced his burns from memory, knew where every freckles was located, and scratched her nails along the sensitive area beneath his shoulderblades that caused him to gasp and push forward. “Don’t think we could do this if you were at St. Mungos.”

“Would be a shame to never do this again,” he declared seriously before his lips were on hers.

Hermione returned his kiss as she pressed down against his hand. His fingers brushed against the wet cotton of her knickers, teasing swipes across the material, just enough pressure to make her moan into his mouth but gone before she got the friction she craved. “Tease,” she accused as she drew back from the kiss, her lips brushing wet kisses along his unshaven jaw.

“You’re so wet I can feel you through your knickers, Hermione. Do you know how fucking sexy that is?” he asked her softly, his thumb nail lightly scraping her belly before hooking beneath the waistband of her knickers. She whimpered when his hand moved beneath the cotton and his fingers stroked her wet cunt. “Shhh. Don’t want Mum and Dad hearing, do we?”

“Charlie,” she warned before she bit her lip to keep from crying out when he suddenly thrust two fingers into her. The elastic of her knickers pulled tight against her back and upper thighs as his hand began to move. She arched up and pushed them down until she felt them around her knees.

“You like this, don’t you, baby?” he asked huskily as he teased her with his fingers.

“Do not,” she denied in a breathless whisper as she spread her legs wider for him. She gasped as he withdrew his hand and changed position beside her. She felt the soft fabric of his jumper as his arm rubbed against her cunt during his shift on the bed. His hair was soft against her cheek as he nuzzled her neck, wet kisses placed along her throat until he reached her gown. His fingers were back, no longer teasing as he nipped at her shoulder. She whined when she felt him bite; her body thrust up and her muscles tightened around his hand.

He twisted his wrist and sent his fingers into her at a different angle before he pulled his head back and stared down at her, only able to see by the dim moonlight from outside. He wouldn‘t need candlelight to know what she must look like with her face flushed and her teeth gnawing at her lip to keep from being too loud. Just as she didn‘t have to see his mischievous smile to know he was in a teasing mood, which meant there’d be no muffling charms tonight. God, she loved when he got playful like this even if she cursed him in the same breath.

“Such a dirty girl with your knickers around your knees and your cunt clenching around my fingers, riding my hand as your nipples harden and you make those fucking sexy noises that make me so bloody hard.” He lowered his head and kissed her lightly, teasing her lips with his as he stroked her cunt. “Come for me, baby,” he urged softly, moving his fingers faster, deeper, rubbing her clit as she writhed beneath him.

She leaned up and kissed him. His mouth caught her whimper as she came, holding him tightly during her orgasm. Her body was still trembling when she felt him withdraw his hand. There wasn’t time to catch her breath before she heard her knickers rip and the familiar sound of his zip being lowered. Then he was thrusting inside her, her body welcoming his as he pushed her against Percy’s old mattress.

They didn’t waste time with words, neither able to do more than pant and moan by this time. They’d talked enough. Instead, she nibbled his shoulder and rocked against him. He pulled her gown down more and she heard it rip right before his calloused palm rubbed the underside of her breast. He squeezed as he pulled out, his thumb and forefinger twisting her nipple when he pushed back inside her. His breath was warm against her face, his jumper soft against her bare skin.

He kissed her face as she moved her legs around his waist, her hands touching his sweaty skin as they slid beneath his shirt again. She lightly brushed her fingertips against his newest burn, knowing it was still a bit sensitive, and held him tighter as she remembered her fear upon hearing he’d been hurt. It had just been another burn, luckily, and she heard his breath catch as she traced it gently. She’d kissed it for him and she knew from the way he tenderly kissed the skin beneath her ear that he remembered that night, too.

“Love you,” he whispered against her ear as he pushed forward. His hands moved along her ribs to grab her hips and he pulled her down to meet his thrusts as he sped up.

“Love you, too,” she said breathlessly as she tightened around him. He hissed as she rolled her hips, a sound all too familiar. He didn’t last much longer. She met his final thrust and heard him grunt against her neck as he came, holding him as he shuddered. He reached between them and rubbed her clit as he panted against her damp skin. She soon followed him, moaning softly as she came again.

When they finally stopped moving, he slowly eased out of her before he kicked off his jeans and pulled his jumper over his head, tossing it to the floor before he laid beside her. “Snuggles now,” he informed her with what she knew was a lazy and sated grin. His arm went around her waist as soon as he’d pulled all the covers back up over them.

“Say please,” she teased as she rolled against him, turning onto her side so he could cuddle her perfectly.

He chuckled huskily before he kissed the back of her neck. “You’re sweaty and smell like sex,” he told her as if this were some sort of shocking discovery. His hand rested against her tummy and he moved his leg to lie across hers as he got comfortable. “Do you need a shower before sleep? Don’t want you too cold, baby.”

“Mmm, guess you’ll just have to keep me warm then,” she muttered as she shifted. She looked behind her and kissed him gently before lying back down. “Quit talking, Charlie. We need some sleep before we face your mum tomorrow.”

“Bossy,” he murmured affectionately as he pulled her closer. She listened to his breathing and smiled when he kissed her shoulder. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“Happy Christmas, Charlie,” she whispered as she put her hand on his and squeezed gently before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep in his arms.  



End file.
